


Three

by Synekdokee



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Multi, PWP, Pet Names, Praise Kink, Spitroasting, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-23 01:37:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17071004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Synekdokee/pseuds/Synekdokee
Summary: ”Look at you,” Hank murmurs, and Connor feels the bed dip by his hips, feels Hank’s presence above him. ”You’re gorgeous. Aren’t we the luckiest two in the world?”





	Three

**Author's Note:**

> Some absolutely plotless porn as a thank you for 500 Twitter followers (and to help a friend get her horny back).

Steady fingers tie the blindfold into a secure knot behind his head. Connor tilts his head, feeling suddenly lost without his sight. Helpless.

He quivers when a pair of hands peels his shirt down his arms and off. He feels a cool breath against his shoulders, and the bristle of a beard.

”H-Hank?” He asks, and there’s a chuckle from in front of him.

”Right here, baby.”

He reaches out, fumbling until he feels Hank’s calloused hands take his, leading them to Hank’s chest. He wraps his arms around Hank’s neck, burying his face into the curve of Hank’s shoulder, careful not to jostle the blindfold. He wants to pull the cloth off, but he knows if he’s good it’ll all be worth it. And he can be good. It’s all he wants to be.

Henry behind him then. Henry’s hands, soft and reverent, tracing over his ribs as though counting them. Coming to play with his hardened nipples, rolling them between the pads of his fingers.

Connor breathes, and a mouth slots against his, hot and wet. Hank’s strange, textured tongue slides against his. He wonders what Hank can tell from tasting him, if he’s analysing Connor’s stress levels, or what he had for dinner, or how many cigarettes he snuck-

“Relax,” Henry says.

Hank pulls away, nudging his nose to Connor’s.

“We can practically hear you thinking.” A finger taps at his temple, and Connor huffs.

Hands circle his waist, undo his belt buckle and his zipper, and he’s tipped backwards into Henry’s lap, strong thighs bracketing his hips.

Hank pulls his pants and underwear off, and Connor’s naked, naked and blind and helpless, held firmly by Henry’s strong arms around him.

”Look at you,” Hank murmurs, and Connor feels the bed dip by his hips, feels Hank’s presence above him. ”You’re gorgeous. Aren’t we the luckiest two in the world?”

Henry hums, nuzzling behind Connor’s ear, rubbing his beard against Connor’s skin.

”Please,” Connor moans, soft and shaky.

”Please what?” Both androids ask in unison.

”I want… I-” Connor stutters, cheeks growing hot with shame.

”Whatever you want, baby,” Hank murmurs, close to his ear. At least he thinks it’s Hank.

”You just have to ask,” Henry continues, nipping at Connor’s earlobe.

”You… both of you, I want- _please_ ,” Connor says desperately, trying to grab for one of them, either of them. ”Don’t make me…”

Hank soothes him, low hushing sounds and a palm on his hip.

”It’s alright, Connor. You don’t have to say it,” he says gently. Henry lets out a disapproving huff, but strokes along Connor’s arms comfortingly.

“You spoil him,” Henry admonishes, but Hank simply lets out a tsk, leaning into press a kiss to Connor’s temple.

”You take his mouth,” Henry says, his clipped, almost indifferent tone going straight to Connor’s cock.

He imagines Hank nodding, because then he’s being maneuvered onto his hands and knees, Hank and Henry caressing his cheeks and neck and shoulders and back and ass and balls and thighs until he loses track of who’s who, just knows that he’s being touched everywhere.

Except where it counts.

He tries to get a hand on his cock to relieve the frustration, but a strong grip stills him.

”Be a good boy for us, and we’ll take care of you,” Hank says, gravelly and firm.

Connor swallows, nodding.

For a moment the hands withdraw, and he whimpers. There’s the sound of rustling fabric and metal buckles and zippers and shoes thumping on the floor, and Connor pants, dick aching.

”I want to see,” he says, mouth dry and chest tight.

A large palm comes to rest on the small of his back, possessive. Stabilising.

”Later. For now we want you to feel.”

He’s not sure if the hand and the voice belong to the same person.

The mattress sinks around him, and he feels Henry move against his thighs, settling behind him at the same time as Hank kneels in front of him. Hank tilts his head up gently by his chin, and guides Connor slowly to his crotch.

Connor’s nose presses against the root of Hank’s cock, thick and hard and nestled in wiry curls. He inhales the scent of synthetic skin and his own soap, and of something electric. Familiar. A soft, content sound wells from his throat.

He hears the sound of the lube cap clicking and he tenses, thighs trembling. Henry pets his buttocks and then parts them, and Connor jumps when two fingers press against his hole.

”Be good now,” cooes Hank, stroking Connor’s hair.

Henry fingers him open carefully on his thick fingers. Connor relaxes, tension bleeding out of his muscles, and Henry ads a third finger and then spreads them, opening him up. Connor whines and gasps out moans, head hanging down, arms shaking. He knows Hank will catch him if he collapses.

”You’re doing so well,” Henry says, sounding so pleased Connor sobs, fingers digging into the bedding. ”So eager, aren’t you? No need to be ashamed.”

Connor feels him shift, and then a pair of lips brush over the rise of his spine, trailing kisses along his back where he knows his freckles are the densest. He wonders if Henry can feel his blush as much as he must see it, burning his shoulders and neck and ears.

Hank murmurs something that Connor can’t make out, but Henry rises and removes his fingers. Connor lets out a disappointed sigh, aching to be filled.

Hank chuckles, cupping his cheek. Connor wishes he could see him.

”Don’t worry, we’ll give you what you need,” Hank says gently, and as if on cue Henry’s hands curl around his hips.

Connor quivers from head to toe when he feels the slick head of Henry’s cock press against his wet hole. As always it feels impossibly huge, and as always it makes him ache for the burn.

”Please,” he says weakly, and Henry pushes, sinking in slow, so slow. It doesn’t matter - Connor feels like he’s being split in two, and he wails, head thrown back and spine dipped with tension.

”Good boy,” Hank croons, thumbing at his bottom lip. ”You should see yourself.”

Henry lets out a sound of agreement, and bottoms out. He pauses for a moment, petting Connor’s flank.

”There you go, honey,” Henry says, almost cheerful. ”Taking my cock so well.”

Connor nods frantically, and then leans forward until his forehead and nose are pressed against the swell of Hank’s belly. Hank laughs, his whole frame shaking with it, and cradles Connor’s head tenderly.

”Alright?” Hank asks.

Connor nods, pressing the flat of his tongue below Hank’s belly button, licking at the skin, at the soft hair.

”Baby,” Hank says softly, and guides Connor lower, until he finds hard flesh and pronounced veins, nuzzling hungrily at Hank’s cock until his lips brush over the tip.

With a happy whine he takes Hank in his mouth, feeling the slide of him, hot and heavy and thick on his tongue.

”Oh, Connor,” Hank breathes, petting his hair and back. ”Honey.”

Connor hums, and kneels there, still. Hank’s cockhead on his tongue, Henry’s dick deep inside his ass. Everything he can sense pinpointed to both ends.

Anchored at two points.

And then they begin to move.

Henry pulls out, and pushes in slowly, and Hank follows. Connor moans, cock throbbing, as he’s filled, ass stretched open around Henry’s cock, throat filled with Hank’s.

They both push in completely, Henry’s hips pressed against Connor’s ass, Connor’s nose pressed against Hank’s gut.

Connor whines and swallows around the cock in his mouth, spit already beginning to well from the corners of his lips.

Henry lets go with one hand, and Connor feels Hank shift, and he sobs, realising they’re touching. Linking. Sending each other feedback so they can feel what the other is feeling. So they can feel all of Connor.

“He’s so sweet,” one of them says, voice fond.

Connor shivers.

They begin a slow, steady rhythm, pulling out and thrusting in, fucking Connor’s throat and ass, gentle and languid and not enough.

Connor pulls off Hank’s cock, gasping for breath, saliva dripping down his skin, his blindfold soaking up his tears.

”Please,” he pants, licking his slick lips. ”Harder.”

They both laugh, warm and loving, and once again there are hands everywhere, mapping his skin, teasing his nipples, caressing his face.

”Whatever you want,” one of them says.

”You’re our perfect boy,” says the other.

Henry thrusts, and pulls out, and slams in again, and Connor screams, but it’s muffled fast when Hank feeds him his cock again. A hand grips his hair, and Hank begins to fuck his mouth, grunting softly as he takes, and takes.

Connor loses himself in it. His cock is dripping precome between his thighs, hard and throbbing. His jaw aches, spit and synthetic precome dribbling down his chin and throat. His ass is stretched open on Henry’s girth. Full, he’s so full, and he’s touched everywhere, warm hands and soft praise filling his world.

His arms give, and Hank laughs and grips his biceps, holding him up, dangling him.

”Poor baby, all tuckered out already,” Henry cooes, rutting harder, his balls slapping against Connor’s skin. He presses Connor’s hips down and shifts, and Connor moans around Hank as Henry’s cock drags over his prostate, making his whole body quake.

”You’re so pretty like this, honey,” Hank praises.

Connor cries, tears soaked into the black cloth. He can’t suck or tongue at Hank anymore, just lets his jaw go slaw, lets Hank fuck his mouth. He’s drooling all over himself and he doesn’t care, has stopped being ashamed of the wet, gurgling sounds welling from his throat or the slick squelch of Henry’s cock pounding him.

He hangs from Hank’s steady, untiring grip, used but taken care of, forgets everything but the pleasure coursing through his veins. He lets go, gives control over to Hank and Henry.

Hank comes first. His hands tighten around Connor’s arms, fingers digging bruises into his skin, and then, with a deep sigh, he buries himself in Connor’s throat. Connor can’t breathe, nose digging into Hank’s soft belly, chin crushed against Hank’s balls.

He can’t swallow, he chokes, and when Hank finally pulls away spit and come spill from his lips, dribble down to wet his chest, cooling on his pebbled nipples. He lets out a wet gasp, shaking and overwhelmed, and Hank pulls him up easily, shuffles forwards and holds him to his broad chest. Henry leans towards them, and Connor finds himself sandwiched between them, two broad chests pressing against him, making him feel safe.

”There you go,” Hank murmurs, voice like gravel against Connor’s brow. ”Beautiful, you’re so beautiful,” he praises, and Connor sobs out a laugh, clinging to him.

Henry chuckles and begins pounding, skin slapping on skin, each nudge of his cockhead over Connor’s prostate dragging breathless sounds from him, a trembling stream of “ah, ah, ah”s. Hank’s arms around his waist hold him firm, and though he feels boneless he’s draped securely against Hank’s barreled chest.

Henry comes with a grunt, buried to the hilt and holding Connor’s hips tight, grinding against his ass. Connor can feel him, can feel the come filling him, his lips on Connor’s heated neck.

Henry pulls out with a wet, obscene sound, and come rushes out, down Connor’s balls and dripping down his thighs.

Connor moans, shifting until he can rut himself against Hank’s belly, hips stuttering as he seeks the friction.

“No, let us,” Henry says. Connor mewls when he’s pulled away from Hank, but he’s laid down by strong hands, nestled into a pile of pillows.

“Wha-“ he slurs, and then there’s a mouth on his cock, and another suckling at his balls, and hands tugging at his nipples, and he’s coming so hard his back arches and his vision whites out.

He blinks when the blindfold is removed, his sight blurry for a moment.

Hank and Henry smile at him, Henry’s head resting on his thigh, Hank sitting by his hip. Both of their LEDs are pulsing a cool, calming blue.

Connor licks his lips, trying to find something to say.

“Beautiful,” says Henry.

“Perfect,” says Hank.

And for once Connor believes them.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on:  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/SynTurtle)  
> [Tumblr.](http://roomfullofcunts.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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